Encounters
by Riza Winters
Summary: A series of short stories about Grimmjow's interactions with his new-found allies in the manga, based on the current canon but taking place at different times in the Vandenreich Arc. First up: Grimmjow's first meeting with Yoruichi. (This story published at the time of chapter 635).


_**AN: The following stories are stand-alone "glimpses" of Grimmjow's meetings and interactions with his current group of allies in the manga (hope you are up to date). Some of them might be first meetings, meetings again, or maybe just a scene to show what allegiance with the sixth espada is like. Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Yoruichi.**

"Yo, Soul Reaper!"

Grimmjow gazed over the empty room. The curtains to the balconies billowed inward. The long tables of lab equipment lay in disarray, bits and pieces of Szayel's old inventions now scattered everywhere.

Urahara had been busy while Grimmjow had been out, running those two teens ragged. They'd still be a day or two, getting to the ruins where he'd instructed them to get without dying. If they could do that, then maybe they'd be able to hold their own in a fight against the Vandenreich.

Maybe.

"Urahara," he called again, wondering if perhaps trouble had already arisen with the teens and that's where the old man was now. He was usually here, or in the main laboratory, working on anything that would give them an advantage in this war.

Grimmjow felt out with his pesquisa but Urahara was not nearby. He did, however, zero in on another presence.

He drew Pantera. The being was close—very close—but its spirit was restrained, making it hard to pin point.

"Impressive. I didn't expect you to sense me so quickly."

He spun at the voice, eyes scanning the room for the threat. But there was no one.

"Perhaps a _feline_ intuition?"

He turned again, the voice just behind him now. He brought his blade up, but still stared at nothing but the room.

"Down here."

His eyes darted down, to where something brushed his pant leg.

It was a cat.

"Get off!" He shook his leg when it nuzzled against him. He had the distinct feeling he was being teased.

"You know, most people like cats. In particular, _you_ must have a fondness towards them."

"What the fuck are you?"

"How rude." The cat lay its ears back and turned away from him. "I don't feel like talking to someone so hostile."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. He flexed the hand not gripping Pantera. "You haven't seen hostile yet."

"Mmm." The cat stretched unconcerned. "Urahara was right about you. So ill-tempered."

"Urahara? You know him."

"Why of course. He asked me to meet him here. Said you'd probably be back before he finished some test he was doing in the sands. He apologizes that he couldn't be here, to make the introductions himself."

"Yeah right. How do I know you didn't off him and now you're waiting to get the rest of us?"

The cat had been cleaning its paw, but now looked up at him with amused eyes. " _Me?_ Just what do you think a little cat like me could do against him?"

"Ah, cut the bullshit. I can feel you. I don't know just what you are yet, but I recognize something lethal when I see it."

Now the cat grinned outright, flashing rows of pointed teeth. "Well, espada, I'm once again impressed, and I will take that as a compliment. Would you like to see my true form?"

The cat didn't give him time to answer. He took a step back and readied himself for the attack, if it should come. But as he watched the mysterious creature slowly morphed from the small, furry animal, into firm, tan flesh, longs legs and—

Grimmjow looked away at once. The deep male voice of the cat was gone, and replaced by a light, mirthful laugh.

"Now _this_ I didn't expect. You're as bad as Ichigo."

He cringed at her laugh and turned back. She had already pulled a black halter over her shoulders and was now adding matching black leggings.

"Who are you?"

"Why, Yoruichi of course. Urhara hasn't mentioned me?"

Grimmjow thought back to the many rambling conversations he'd had with the ex-captain—well, not so much conversations as Urahara's tendency to carry on talking long after Grimmjow had stopped listening.

"Maybe…" he _had_ heard mention of this person, but he still wasn't going to let his guard down. The Vandenreich had many ploys and he wasn't about to fall to one.

"And you are?" She finished by tying back her long purple hair into a high ponytail. She was petit, but everything about her spelled strength and speed, and deadly prowess. He could read it in the lines of her body, the way she held her self, and those quick, mischievous eyes. They were the eyes of a warrior, an intelligent one, masked behind laughter and mocking.

"Grimmjow Jaggerjaques," he responded, even though he suspected she already knew his name.

"Pleasure to meet you," she smiled at him, planting her hands on her hips. He ignored the pleasantry and sheathed his sword. "So you've decided I'm not a threat?"

"No," he answered bluntly, "but you don't have a sword." He'd carefully made note of the articles she'd replaced on her body as she'd dressed, and there had been no weapons among them. "So if we go at this, I want it to last."

A thin eyebrow raised. She grinned that cat's grin at him.

"You know, I can see now why Urahara asked for your help. You've grown up a lot since the war with Aizen."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Oh, I've heard about what you were like. But you're more perceptive now. You've been reading me like a book ever since you felt me."

"It ain't hard."

"So you've figured out what I am?"

"Soul Reaper. Probably a traitor."

"Very good. So you know I'm not a Vandenreich then. But you still haven't discounted me as a threat?"

"I've known four Soul Reaper traitors in my life. Can't say I've ever trusted one of them."

"Urahara would be hurt, you lumping him in with Aizen and the others."

"He knows where we stand."

"I see. Well I guess there's nothing I can do to convince you to trust me until he gets back. So, shall we wait in a silent stand-off, or should we have some fun?"

The moonlight from the open windows gleamed off her eyes. They glowed with dangerous, enticing energy.

She grinned. So did he.

* * *

Urahara opened the back door to the lab where he'd been working. He stopped dead, seeing the mess of his instruments all around—more of a mess than he'd left them. Some of the stone flooring had been burnt, as if by cero. More stone at the balcony entrance was shattered by some high impact. He dropped what he'd been carrying and crossed the room to look out into the desert beyond.

Two figures danced in the night. Swells of power escaped now and then, but for the most part, it was contained—a battle of speed, strength, cunning. He crossed his arms, annoyed, but somewhat mesmerized by their similarities. No one could match the grace of Yoruichi's movements—especially not Grimmjow—but there was a striking resemblance between their styles as they struck, blow-for-blow, in the sand. He smiled to himself, guessing the reason why.

They landed in the sands, a high wall of grains casting up from their descent. Grimmjow caught a hit but staggered. She disappeared and reappeared, striking him from behind. She was getting the upper hand.

Time to call an end to it, Urahara thought, before somebody's pride got too hurt.

"Yoruichi!" he called out in a singsong voice. All motion halted. Yoruichi landed from flashstep a few feet from Grimmjow but payed him no heed. "I missed you!"

Grimmjow looked between them, half repulsed by Urahara's sugary greeting to Yoruichi, and annoyed their fight had been interrupted.

"Hey," he barked out.

Yoruichi ignored him and met Urahara as he descended to the sands and wrapped his arms around her. She was sweating, and breathing much harder than he expected. He lifted his eyes past her shoulder to Grimmjow.

Perhaps he'd saved someone else' pride too.

He drew back. "Grimmjow, I'm sorry I wasn't here to introduce you two properly."

Seeing the fight was truly over, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Whatever. Where were you?"

"Ah, were you worried about me? I'm touched."

Grimmjow bristled. "Tch. As if. I'll be in the palace when you're ready to do some fucking work."

He disappeared from the sand. Urahara turned back to his best friend.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I think we'll get along just fine. So long as he can accept working with Ichigo, when the time comes to it, he'll be an asset."

"I'm still working on that part, but I think the need to show off his new strength will help things in our favour."

"Mm." She rubbed a sore shoulder, "yes, should come in handy in a few ways."

"You alright?"

"Of course." She lowered her hand. "Nothing to worry about, just a little cat fight."

Urahara smiled. "Don't let him hear you say that."

They returned to the palace, and their preparations for war.

* * *

 _ **This is the meeting I would love to see in a flashback in the canon the most because I suspect it would be rather humorous...**_

 _ **Riza**_


End file.
